I’ve been thinking a lot recently about wholesome folk, people who always make the right choices, went straight into the 6th form, and straight to University and straight into a job from that. The people who are totally on track, and in stable relationships and living comfortably and have mortgages. If they lived across the pond they’d probably have a stupid minivan.
I work with a fair amount of these people, and although they’re all nice they really weird me out.
Nothing makes me feel better about the fact that me (and ALL my friends) are to some extent, fuck ups, making the wrong choices time and time again, because it feels good at the time. Even though it’s always been obvious to everyone else on an extreme surface level, I’ve never really examined the way that I reject mainstream culture.
This is sort of a new twist on the trying to be a middle class grown-up punk, I think I’ve picked my side now though. Fuck, if I wanted to be a proper go getter, I’d have done it by now. Looking back, pretty much all of my favourite times ever, have been with my friends- out -usually at a show. Very few have been moments spent alone with boys, or with family. I think maybe I might just get married to punkrock.